The incessant and unnerving cacophony of the sounds of war – bombardment, air raid alerts, explosions – has seemingly drowned out the voices of those under Russian attack in Ukraine. But as Ukrainian citizens learn to coexist with the devastation that haunts their daily comings and goings, the resilience of the country’s artists could not be stronger. With his short but still haunting “Rule of Two Walls,” Ukrainian-American director David Gutnik created a collection of portraits highlighting the experiences of artists from all over the country who took refuge in the city of Lviv. The people behind the making of this documentary.

Filmed in early 2022, just months before the occupation, “The Rule of Two Walls” follows everyday reflections on how the ongoing occupation has wreaked havoc on the personal and professional aspects of some of Ukraine’s most creative minds. These voices include Lyana Mytsko, director of the Lviv Municipal Art Center, where artists can develop and exhibit their work, and rapper Stepan Burban (aka Palindrom), whose lyrics, clearly Ukrainian, say his aspirations were cut short after he first tried to do them in Russian. short because of violence. There is also the film’s sound recordist Mykhailo Zakutskyi and even producer Olha Beskhmelnytsina. The latter explains his decision to stay in the country: not only to care for his parents, but also to facilitate filmic documentation of the events.

But using overly traditional talking-head interviews in a piece about the difficult enterprise of art in the midst of chaos would feel too aesthetically inert to match the determined energy that overflows from the subjects. Gutnik instead opts for a propulsive soundtrack, clever camera movements, and cuts that give each episode fluidity, images that showcase the process or contemplate each person in their daily activities. Although “The Rule of Two Walls” is divided into three sections, they are determined not by the individuals sharing their memories but by how Gutnik groups his introspective thoughts, meaning multiple voices emerge in each section.

Be aware, however, of the highly graphic nature of the images interspersed with these personal essays. People reduced to ashes in the fire, a decapitated corpse, and swollen bodies in different stages of decomposition make it almost impossible not to want to look away. Their inclusion creates a deliberate shock to the system, jolting the viewer into remembering the horrific context in which these creative efforts took place. As cinematographer Volodymyr Ivanov talks about how desensitized he has become to the horror and insomnia that afflict him, his solemn expression almost deflates the documentary with his combustible anger and sadness.

For these artists, the “two-wall rule”, which means taking shelter in the corridor when there is no other shelter during bombardment, symbolizes their contradictory intermediate position as they try to express their feelings while confronting the pain that surrounds them. They are both victims and heroes, persevering through the fog of war. Yet, in the face of this reality, making music, painting, and film may seem unimportant. In turn, the existence and importance of documents such as the “Rule of Two Walls” and many other documents related to this conflict also reveal how frank Western audiences can empathize with Ukraine’s plight, as powerful countries openly condemned its victims. The same cannot be said about how the ongoing humanitarian crisis in Palestine is being handled and how the West is apportioning the blame.

Later in the film, Gutnik strongly inserts himself into the film, describing in English the tragedy that no one in his family speaks Ukrainian, even though all of his closest relatives were born there. During the Soviet period, Russian was the necessary language to find a job, an assimilation tactic that would eliminate individuality among the republics.

This unattainable homogeneity is part of Putin’s rhetoric, which claims that there is no discernible Ukrainian culture. A cursory glance at the whirlwind of memories and expressions depicted in “The Rule of Two Walls” renders such an implausible declaration irrelevant.

Perhaps it is the image of a theater in Mariupol before its demolition that makes clear the doctor’s position on the imperative need for art even in the bleakest circumstances. Although the building itself is no longer usable, its image from a past that now seems distant can still inspire hope. It’s a tangible symbol of their collective dreams worth fighting for. The “Rule of Two Battles” serves a similar purpose.